


The Thaw

by brennivin



Series: Angel City Encounters [2]
Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Canonical Character Death, Comfort Sex, Developing Relationship, Drunk Sex, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, M/M, Multi, Other, Porn with Feelings, Songfic, Threesome - M/M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unreliable Narrator, Unsafe Sex, by developing I mean messy, the exact sad old dude content I am known for, the holy trinity of dysfunctional smut, what's the opposite of a fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 13:04:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15685998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brennivin/pseuds/brennivin
Summary: Roy Earle and Stefan Bekowsky both have a lot of feelings and troubles, and nobody else to turn to but each other. Terrible decisions follow. MAJOR spoilers for the end of the game. Just saying.Normally I don't delve this deep into songfic territory but I feel like this one just works really nicely with lyrics in it idk.





	The Thaw

* * *

 

_Tonight we're gonna share the same space, to see what will become of it._

_Forgive me if my mouth is dry - I'll blame it on my battlecry._

_Secrets in the snow will only come out in the thaw._

_All those terrible things! Can you entertain us all?_

 

* * *

 

 

He hadn’t meant to drink so quickly, but alas he was already halfway through a bottle of wine and he was feeling it. This happened some nights nowadays; he was kind of concerned that he shouldn’t be growing accustomed to this. It couldn’t be helped. Phelps had been buried a month ago and he wasn’t able to even remember the last thing he said to him. There had been fewer and fewer encounters with his old partner other than occasionally working the same crime scene and exchanging awkward small talk.

He hadn’t been able to say anything substantial to him – not since that night at the Blue Room when Roy Earle had taken the two of them out for drinks. That night he had admitted things he shouldn’t have. He had done things he shouldn’t have.

Now he was getting drunk alone in his apartment thinking about it. He wasn’t even thirty yet and he felt like an old man reminiscing.

* * *

 

_Tonight we're gonna share the same space, just if you'll invite me in._

_Forget it 'cause you should have tried - how are you unsatisfied?_

 

* * *

 

Cole had been a little pissed off after watching Roy have a fight with that little German number from the jazz band. He looked itchy on his feet about it like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what exactly to say. Roy had mumbled to Stefan that it was more likely he was just bitter ‘because a pretty girl had called him a fascist’ and he couldn’t help but chuckle at that. It sounded like Cole alright, always agonising over things people said about him. He wanted everyone to like him. He was a bit too _keen_ about it, if Stefan was being honest.

Roy had insisted on buying the drinks for the night, and he was the kind of guy who liked to get rowdy. It was no surprise they had all ended up several drinks in and a little wavy in the knees.

Earle had offered to share some ‘better stuff’ he had at his place and Stefan was not a man to turn down some expensive liquor. Cole had muttered something about getting home to his family and the other two had insisted that his wife would thank them for not sending him home in the state he was in.

Roy was the least drunk out of the three of them, but it would have been better if he hadn’t driven them back to his place. They had avoided any accidents but there had been a few close calls. Stefan was too drunk to really care but Cole was anxious about it, commenting on Roy’s driving and pointing out when he wasn’t paying attention. Ever the killjoy, Cole Phelps was.

It was a miracle they had made it back to Roy’s apartment, but once inside they weren’t surprised to see that it was stylishly decorated. His furniture looked fairly new and well-maintained and the place was quite tidy except for the odd dish or stray book lying around. For a single guy Roy sure was living comfortably. A lot of guys his age who didn’t have a wife got sloppy. It seemed he was the type who didn’t need a woman to take care of him. No doubt he’d taken a few bribes to afford such a nice place, though.

The cognac he had poured out for the three of them had been divine. Stefan was a stickler for cognac and this was a good one. He had slurred all kinds of praises to Roy for his good taste and after Cole had taken a bathroom break Roy had shuffled a little closer to him on the plush couch. His clever fingertips had ghosted along Stefan’s arm and he just hadn’t been sober enough to deny how excited he got. Normally his attraction to men was safely locked away in the back of his mind.

The feeling of Roy’s lips on his was a raw and bizarre memory. He had never seen Roy this way before until this point. The guy was a jackass who dressed like a movie star and acted like he could be one if he wanted, but Stefan couldn’t pretend that the way he spoke didn’t get him going.

“Maybe I do have good taste, Stefan. Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

But after their mouths had made contact there had been no more coherent words, only muffled gasps and moans.

Cole caught them in a compromising position.

Stefan had already lost his jacket, tossed onto the carpet alongside his tie. Roy’s jacket was thrown over the back of the couch and his shirt and tie loose on his body. His hand was blatantly pressed between Stefan’s legs, his pants open so that Roy’s palm fit snugly against his clothed groin.

“What the-”

“Just gonna stand there, Cole?”

Stefan hadn’t expected himself to be capable of such words, but the alcohol and the sudden realisation of how badly he needed this had taken over.

Seemingly he wasn’t the only one. One thing led to another and it all felt like one blurred scene of lust and feelings and liquor. Getting Cole out of his clothes made Stefan blush. He had caught himself taking a glance at his more attractive features before but seeing him laid bare was a whole different ball park.

He learned all kinds of things that he shouldn’t have known – Roy Earle sucked cock like a champion, which didn’t surprise him all too much. Cole Phelps had specific spots that could make him shiver to the touch, around his hips and along his collarbones. Roy had a longer cock but Cole’s was thicker. Roy liked to go hard and fast while Cole was gentle and sappy.

They had taken their turns with him and he’d enjoyed every second of it. Roy gave it to him rough like a wild animal while Cole kissed him tenderly. Cole bent him over and fucked him carefully and artfully, hitting his sweet spots so that he moaned around Roy’s cock.

It all felt surreal. It wasn’t often that a guy could bed another man in the first place but two? That was just unheard of. It felt that much more exciting to be in this situation with Cole, the object of his poorly hidden desires for the entire time they’d been working together. This would be an interesting farewell present.

The little get together at Roy’s place was not talked about even once. Occasionally Earle would happen to pass Bekowsky in the hall when he came down to his branch for information. He would give him a knowing look – wink at him, even. He’d do his best to hide how turned on he was as his mind wandered to the memory of that night. He’d cross paths with Cole at a crime scene, giving him a coy little smile that made him clear his throat and hurry the conversation. Having this effect on his old partner was fun, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was avoiding him because of it. He didn’t blame Phelps for that, since he was married with kids and all.

 

* * *

 

 

_You could have taken it all, but you should have asked._

_I would give you my tongue or my dying breath._

_Please believe in me like I believe in you - i_ _t's the only thing to see us through._

 

* * *

 

Had he ruined their friendship that night? Would things have ended differently if he’d just kept his mouth shut, or said something else? Maybe he could have asked Phelps to leave them to privacy and this would have never happened. Maybe he could have just kept it in his goddamn pants in the first place.

It had become a cycle now. He’d drink and it’d make him reminisce, and then he’d get that guilty feeling and drink again. Then he’s probably just jerk off and cry into his pillow until he fell into a fitful sleep. This time was a little different, though – there was a knock at his door.

Who would be knocking at this hour? It was 11pm, so it would be rude of his neighbours to knock around this time – he was certain the elderly woman down the hall was fast asleep by now, and the apartment across from him was empty at the moment. He didn’t even know the neighbours on the lower floor.

Another knock rang out. Whoever it was they either knew he was home and awake or they just didn’t care. He timidly approached the front door – he didn’t want to be caught drinking on his own if it turned out to be something really important.

At his door was none other than Roy Earle. His brow came down into a frown.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Earle?”

The older man shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. “No way to greet your colleague, Bekowsky.”

“Answer the question.” He was too drunk to put up with the man’s clowning right now.

“Okay, okay. So maybe I just wanted to visit my favourite Pole-”

Bekowsky snarled at him. “I know you were involved in that case that got Cole killed, Earle. You were in the pocket of those shady business men who set up the whole scandal.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m already on a disciplinary over it – they’re considering demoting me if I don’t convince ‘em otherwise. I don’t need you yelling my ear off on top of half the goddamn LAPD.”

He noticed that Earle was drunk, too. He looked a little red in the face like he might have cried a little. It seemed his misbehaviour had caught up on him.

“Look I’m not gonna pretend this is goin’ well for me. You think I wanted Cole dead? I swear I never wanted anything like that to-”

“At least come inside. You’ll wake somebody up _blubbing_ in the hall like that.” It wasn’t often that Stefan got to take the high ground over someone like Roy Earle. He was definitely having fun seeing the guy so miserable.

The Vice detective stepped inside, glancing around Stefan’s place and muttering something about how it was less tacky than he imagined. Stefan ignored his comment and invited him to sit.

“You been drinkin’ too? This whole thing is ruining us I guess.”

“You don’t get to pretend we’re in the same boat, Earle. You’re one of the people who was involved in all that corruption – you enabled the people who got him killed!”

“Think I don’t know that? Think I feel good about that? Geez.” He sniffed back some very real tears that Stefan never thought he’d see on such a guy. “God, this whole thing got so outta hand and now Cole got killed and I couldn’t do nothin’ to stop it. Why? It’s ‘cause I trusted the worst possible people, Bekowsky. They flashed their money and I got too confident.”

He didn’t say anything – maybe it was best he listened for now. If Roy Earle was crying it was probably something worth listening to.

“I thought I could just make a little money by handing over some files and not tipping off on some weird insurance policies and goddamn I never realised just how fucked the whole thing was.”

He had his head in his hands. Stefan would normally expect a man so much older than him to be less naïve but he knew Roy’s ego well enough – he didn’t show any signs of lying.

“Mixing with those types only leads to messes like this, Roy. It would never end well and it happens that Cole was the one who suffered for it.”

Roy just sobbed. Stefan didn’t know what else to say so he fetched a napkin for Roy to wipe his face with, handing it to the sobbing man.

“I specifically wanted to work with him and then – oh, thanks – and then he betrayed his wife for that _whore_ and I guess I was a little jealous too. I don’t normally butt into another guy’s life but Cole… I thought Cole was better than that, ya know? I felt like doing my job for once but I don’t even know why.”

Stefan’s hand was very warm on the shoulder of Roy’s suit, which was a little damp. It must have been lightly raining outside.

“Hey, that was a separate incident Roy. Don’t act like it’s related. Cole messed up. So what if you’re the one who handed him over? A crime’s a crime, right?”

Roy sniffed as he wiped away the last of his tears.

“Am I dreaming or are you defending something I did?”

“I don’t wanna believe it either, but my feelings about Cole won’t stop me feeling mad at guys who lie and cheat. Yourself included.”

Roy laughed weakly. “I don’t blame you for it. Lotta guys have worked hard while I clowned around and now I’ve got a guy killed – a guy I fucking… I fucking-”

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence but Stefan was willing to hazard a guess at least. “Roy, did you have feelings for him too?”

He looked up at Stefan with big, wet eyes. “What do you mean, ‘too’ Stefan?”

There was a weird little silence between the two of them until they both couldn’t help but laugh. Right now they at least had something in common – drinking to try and get over a guy who probably never realised just how much he meant to them. They were still reeling for a guy who was already dead, with little else to do but feel guilty and drink more.

Neither of them wanted to admit they had anything in common.

“We’re idiots aren’t we, Roy?”

“Maybe.”

“So why’d you come to me in particular?”

Roy shifted around in his seat, rubbed the back of his neck and eventually looked up at Stefan again. The look in his eyes made him think of that one night, when he first kissed him and everything just spiralled out of control. He tried not to react to these thoughts.

“I don’t know, Stefan. Maybe it’s ‘cause you’re the closest thing I’ve got to a friend anymore.”

Stefan smiled, and there was pity there. “That’s pretty sad Roy; we never talk.”

“I know. I don’t think we’ve talked one on one since that time-” He stopped. It seemed that in his drunk haze he’d forgotten that anything had happened between them. “Since that time… Well, you know what I mean.”

The air between them changed somehow, and Stefan was dizzy enough that he didn’t really care too much. Whatever was happening he was getting a kick out of it somehow.

Roy’s lips were somehow familiar despite how long it had been – maybe because he’d been fantasising about them only minutes ago. He was aggressive just like Stefan remembered, made bold by emotions and booze.

Neither of them had the motor skills to do this elegantly. There was a little fumbling as Stefan got out of his seat and let Roy clumsily pin him against the edge of the table. Hands were tugging at his shirt and suspenders and he was yanking Roy’s jacket from his shoulders. He half expected the older man to scold him for being rough with his suit but Roy seemed pre-occupied with giving all his attention to Stefan. His mouth was all over his jaw, his neck and his collarbone. He left kisses and bite marks everywhere he could reach. Stefan hadn’t been this turned on in a long time.

A hand fumbled its way into his pants and he gasped as his neglected erection finally got some stimulation. God, these clothes wouldn’t come off quick enough.

“Wait, Roy-”

“You getting shy on me?”

Stefan squirmed. “Can we move this to my bedroom maybe?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.”

They practically raced their way to Stefan’s bed, barely breaking apart to breathe between their feverish kisses. At some point they were free of most of their clothes. Roy kissed all over Stefan’s chest and stomach and in return Stefan ran his nails over his back and shoulders. There were no sounds but their awkward movements on the mattress and whimpers of intoxicated ecstasy.

At some point he had retrieved the Vaseline from his bedside table. At some point he had buried two fingers in Roy and was strumming little whines of pleasure from him. Eventually he was ready, mumbling incoherently in a way that sounded like begging.

At some point he had buried himself inside Roy, all the way to the hilt. The older man panted and _squealed_ as Stefan rocked in and out of him. They built up something like a rhythm, neither of them sober enough to really focus on it. Stefan gradually sped up his pace, spurred on by how Roy reacted to him. It felt good to be inside him but it felt even better to have his attention – to have _someone’s_ attention.

He never realised Roy could reach such high pitches – if any of the neighbours downstairs overheard them they’d probably think Stefan had a dame over.

Neither of them lasted too long, Stefan collapsing onto Roy’s chest as he reached his limit. Roy didn’t seem to mind that he finished inside him. He lazily stroked Roy’s cock until he writhed and made a mess of his own stomach, gasping through the aftershocks.

* * *

 

_Tonight we have shared the same space; has anything become of it?_

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t clear at what point they'd fallen asleep, but when Stefan woke up he observed that he had wiped Roy down with a washcloth before discarding it in the bathroom sink, likely too fatigued to rinse it out. Hell, he'd left the bathroom door wide open. The guy was still asleep, and there was something kind of blissful about watching his face as he did little else but breathe faintly against Stefan's shoulder.

That was, until the hangover kicked in.

Stefan felt like crap, but it was no surprise. He’d probably have to call in sick today – not that Galloway would mind having a day to work the case alone. The guy didn’t really like having partners. Luckily he seemed to find Stefan amiable enough to tolerate him.

He thanked his lucky stars he’d had his coffee machine fixed up only a week ago. He’d get up and make two strong cups of the good shit once he could muster the strength to get upright. At the moment he couldn't even figure out what way was up, and didn't really care to figure it out.

Roy wriggled closer and put a sleepy hand on Stefan’s thigh.

“You feelin’ as rough as I do right now?”

He didn’t say anything, kissing Roy’s forehead. He would try to comprehend this mess later when his head wasn’t pounding.

**Author's Note:**

> Song is "The Thaw" by Biffy Clyro, unsurprisingly.


End file.
